


one knight stand

by katieelle



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Corruption, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Of course it’s mr robot, Politics, Tudor Era, revolutions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieelle/pseuds/katieelle
Summary: When Elliot’s family was moved into the castle after his father was named the King’s most valuable knight, he didn’t expect to grow so close to the prince.He also didn’t expect to watch the fall of King Wellick’s reign happen right before his eyes, but, you know, shit happens.





	one knight stand

Elliot’s skin was sweating underneath of his armor again. 

His body was sickeningly hot, leaving his head feeling dizzy and cluttered while his mouth ran dry. Even Flipper was breathing more heavily than normal, he could tell by the way her shiny black head bobbed up and down, flicked from side to side, then up and down again. Elliot steadied himself by rearranging his feet in the footholds and balanced his lance in one hand, only releasing the reigns when he was sure he wasn’t about to topple off of the saddle and land in the dust. With his free hand, he gently ran his fingers through her satin fur, sure that the clanky metal glove covering his hands did little to nothing to soothe her. But that was okay. It was more for him than the horse, anyways. 

Elliot glanced up at the sky as a last resort effort to calm his nerves, but the brightness of the sun over the horizon only bore into his eyes and stressed him out even more. “Alderson, you ready?” Nicholas called from across the field, and Elliot wondered for a few brief moments how he managed to remain so stable before a fight. He’d have to ask him about that later. 

“Yeah, sure,” Elliot tried to respond, but his voice sounded so small and so weak, it must have been near impossible for Nicholas to hear over the distance. He did though, he had to, because next thing Elliot knew, a 1,500 pound horse was charging at him and a lance was being pointed in his direction. 

He barely had time to flip the final part of his mask over his eyes before he was directing Flipper to the left, swerving out of the range of Nicholas’ weapon just in time. He looped around in a full circle before running back into his opponent, but this time, his lance was raised and slashing out at his side. He felt his weapon crash into the metal of Nicholas’ armor before he saw it, and when he realized the jab was useless, he retracted his arm immediately to prevent himself from opening up a weak spot. 

The whole time that Flipper’s feet were pounding against the dirt, his heart rate was skyrocketing, and he was almost positive that his heart was going to break straight through his armor. 

He needed to focus. He needed to strategize, he needed a solid plan rather than just running around the court like a madman waving a lance at everything that moved. If he could just stop focusing on how anxious he was all the time and redirect that energy to the actual joust, he may have a chance at this. He took a deep breath and contemplated closing his eyes for just a split second to relax, but even that felt too dangerous, so he simply collected his thoughts and turned his horse around, ready to win for real this time. 

“Hey, Elliot!” Elliot’s neck whipped around so fast he was surprised his head didn’t detach from his body. Tyrell fucking Wellick was standing along the fence, arms crossed and leaning against the gate as he stared on with a smirk. Things seemed to move in slow motion after that point. He vaguely remembered Flipper slowing to a stop when he loosened his grip on her reins. He remembered locking eyes with Tyrell and the innocent wave he gave him. He remembered a collision, pressure on his side, and then the rest was an empty space.

When he came to, his back was resting on the lumpy mattress of his tiny chambers. He tested both of his arms first, which could still move perfectly fine. He shifted his legs suspiciously, and to his gratitude, they were both still working. His head, though, his head had a shooting pain passing through the center, which only grew worse when he attempted to sit up. When he felt warmth around his nose and realized his nose had begun to bleed, he immediately let his head fall back down against the pillow. Weight shifted on the opposite side of the bed, then he heard a quiet, “Goddammit, I just got that bleeding to stop.” 

“Tyrell?” Elliot groaned. “What the hell happened?”

“You not being careful while practicing is what happened.” Right. He had been practicing a joust with one of the other squires and failing miserably when Tyrell made him lose his focus. It wasn’t like he’d had much focus in the first place anyways, though. How was he supposed to become a great knight like his father when he could barely survive a practice joust with another squire? 

Whatever. That time it was so not his fault. “Says the guy who distracted me and made me fall off my goddamn horse,” he complained, rolling to the side and not caring when a few drops of blood leaked onto his pillow. Tyrell was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, sharp eyes glaring down at Elliot. 

“Okay, but I’m also the guy who helped carry you up here and took care of that bloody fucking nose of yours, you dick.” Tyrell stood, stretching his arms above his head, and began pacing around the room, admiring some of the artwork framed on the dark cracked walls. Elliot’s room was just the same as the rest of the residents of the castle, or at least those who weren’t of royal status. His father was one of the King’s best knights, which is what had earned the rest of his family a spot in the castle in the first place. It was only natural that, at fourteen, Elliot had started his training as a squire. Surprise, surprise, three years later and he was still utter shit at it. 

Living in the castle was, in his opinion, not all that it was cracked up to be. He was sure as shit it was a hell of a lot better than barely scraping by in a dirt home and then dying early of some unknown illness, but he still couldn’t shake the sense that he was constantly being watched. It was good, though, for the rest of his family at least. Although Darlene was always fascinated by jousting and desperately wanted to try it out, but was constantly denied because it was a man’s duty, she did have the opportunity to follow something else she wouldn’t have otherwise been recognized for had they grown up poor: painting. There were many paintings scattered about the castle created by the hands of his very own fourteen-year old sister, a feat that was difficult to accomplish even for many of the experienced artists of the country. 

And, of course, he wouldn’t have met Tyrell if he had never been invited to stay at the castle. He was a prince, destined to marry a beautiful princess in an arrangement that would satisfy the needs of both of their territories. Elliot had always had a suspicion that it would end up being Princess Joanna of Denmark, even though Tyrell always said there was no way they’d ever make peace with the king there long enough to form a marriage with his daughter. He would then live out the rest of his life as a leader, the most powerful person in their country, and would probably forget all about Elliot and the rest of the Aldersons. But until then, he was really the only friend Elliot had, and he was strangely okay with that. 

Abruptly, Tyrell leaned over and broke the silence that had settled over them. “Doesn’t look like you have any bruises or anything. Guess that armor is good for something,” he said, inspecting Elliot’s arm, which he was just now realizing was bare of the metal he had been covered in previously. Tyrell must have helped him out of his armor, too. His nose was still bleeding. He was sure the pillow was stained now. 

“You should go soon,” Elliot finally said, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand and grimacing at the blood smear that was left behind. It was no secret around the royal court that Tyrell had grown close to Elliot, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t frowned upon. Tyrell had duties and responsibilities to attend to that didn’t include spending all of his time on a hopeless squire. 

And maybe part of the reason he found himself forcing his tongue to tell Tyrell to leave so often was for his own good. Because, maybe, although he hated admitting it to himself, maybe he was a little bit jealous of Princess Joanna or whoever else would end up marrying him. He told himself time and time again the only reason he didn’t want to grow any closer to Tyrell was because he’d just be hurt when he inherited the throne and forgot he existed, but he’d always be lying because that wasn’t even close to the whole truth. The truth was an ever growing pit in his stomach that weighed him down and stressed him out and made him feel dizzy with sick, but it was also something that he could never acknowledge because that was one step closer to putting him in real danger. 

Tyrell sighed heavily and collapsed on the rock hard bed next to Elliot, arms crossed over his chest in aggravation. “But I’d rather stay here and talk about your sister’s 15th birthday.” He glanced over at Elliot, who was scrunching his nose up in disgust. 

“I don’t,” he muttered, purposely avoiding Tyrell’s gaze. She’d be fifteen in a few months, and the pressure for her to get married was higher than ever. She was supposed to have been part of an arranged marriage years ago, but somehow, possibly due to her position in the castle, she slipped through the system and managed to avoid it for a little while longer. But there was no use in trying to put off the inevitable, because eventually, she’d have to marry someone who the court deemed fit for her, someone whom she’d have to obey for the rest of her life and someone whom she’d be forced to carry children for. The thought of his baby sister becoming nothing more than a tool for some random unappreciative man to use made him feel like he needed to vomit. 

“Don’t you think we could do something nice for her?” he suggested. 

“Like what?” Elliot asked, his attention caught by the idea. He knew nothing he could do could save Darlene from her fate, but maybe he could make her birthday seem a little less despairing. Before they could begin to develop a plan, a knock at the door caused Tyrell to practically jump off of the bed and scramble to push his hair into place and brush off his pants. 

A gruff voice spoke up from outside the door. “Is Prince Wellick in your quarters with you, Elliot Alderson?” He was clearly annoyed, and rightfully so. Elliot had heard that same phrase spoken in that same spot countless times now, he could almost hear the sound of the Chamberlain’s scruffy beard bobbing as he spoke. “He is scheduled for a meeting to discuss the acquisition of new territories with the King’s court.” 

“Uh, yes sir, he’ll be right out.” 

“I’ll come find you afterwards and then we can talk about the Darlene thing, okay?” Tyrell whispered, adjusting his collar as he stood beside Elliot. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Elliot replied, attempting to sound careless like he so often truly was, but he couldn’t hide the little bit of excitement that peaked his voice. Tyrell definitely noticed it, too. He smiled, handing a piece of cloth to Elliot. “Wipe off your nose,” he said, “you’re going to make a mess.” 

It didn’t take Elliot too long to fall asleep after that. Usually, it was difficult for him to fall asleep during the day when he knew he could be practicing or taking care of the horses. This time, though, his mind wasn’t focusing on those tasks, it was just….content. Content to be laying down, taking a break, and giving himself time to recover from that awful nosebleed and pounding headache. He’d feel much better when he’d had rest, and maybe he’d even ask Nicholas to practice with him again and this time he wouldn’t let Tyrell distract him. He'd just take a nap, that was it. 

-

He didn't wake up again until he heard a soft knock on the door. It wasn't very loud, but it was enough to startle him and cause his eyes to peel open in annoyance. He couldn't remember how long he had been asleep, but it couldn't have been too long because it was still daylight. 

The knocks continued, and Elliot made no effort to respond, opting to raise his eyebrows and rub his forehead instead. Whoever it was could fuck off and come back another time, he still had a few minutes to rest. But they persisted, and soon the door was creaking open carefully and Elliot pretended to be asleep. 

“Elliot? You awake?” he heard a hushed voice say, one that he recognized quickly. If it had been anyone else, he would have ignored them and hoped they would leave him alone, but his dad rarely came into his room unless it was for something important, considering how busy he always was. 

“Yeah, I’m up,” he croaked, still exhausted and in pain from the jousting incident. 

His dad sat down on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his hands, clearly stressed about something. He assumed it was a problem with a threat on the castle or the village that had him so frustrated, or maybe it was something Elliot did that he was pisssed about. Whatever it was, though, it seemed important to him, so Elliot sat up and opened his ears and tried to ignore the shooting pain in his head. “Okay, listen,” he began, stuttering slightly. He wiped his palms on his pants and faced Elliot directly, eyes sunken in and glazed over. “I need you to promise me something.”

There was something off about his tone. His dad was a leader, but that voice made him sound so weak, like he was begging for something. It made Elliot’s stomach sink and his heart race all at once as fear instantly struck him. “What is it?” he blurted. “What's going on?”

“I need to know that if anything ever happens to me, you'll take care of Darlene and yourself.” 

Jesus. He couldn't think straight. It was just like when he was out jousting, with his mind jumbled and unable to form coherent thoughts. What's going on? Figure it out. “Why? Why would something happen to you?”

“You know, it's just that being a knight can be really dangerous, and I need to know that you and Darlene will be okay in case….in case anything bad ever happens to me.”

Something wasn't adding up. He'd been a knight for years and he'd never brought this up before. They knew it was dangerous. They'd accepted that fact long ago. It was as if he knew something was going to happen to him. His stomach sunk further and his heart raced faster and his lungs were empty and felt like they were shriveling. 

“Please tell me what's going on,” he pleaded. His eyes were welling up. He sniffled. His voice cracked. 

“Nothing's going on,” his dad repeated, an obvious lie. He knew Elliot knew he was lying. Somehow, this was on purpose. Somehow, he expected Elliot to figure out what was going on. “Just, promise me? Alright?”

This wasn't just a promise to look after Darlene. This was a promise to understand whatever message he was hoping to convey, because there was something bigger happening and he needed Elliot to know what without giving too much information away. That's what this was really about. 

“Promise.”

Elliot wasn’t able to fall asleep after that. He had tossed and turned for approximately an hour, and he ended up feeling more tired than when he had lied down. 

His mind wouldn’t stop running in circles, trying to come up with a possible explanation for his father’s strange behavior. He knew there was something more that he wasn’t telling him, but needed him to figure out. That much was obvious. He just didn’t know what the fuck his dad was trying to tell him, and he worried that if he didn’t figure it out, he’d be putting his family’s lives in danger, and that was one of his biggest fears. Why his dad believed the right person to put this type of pressure on was Elliot was beyond him, but there had to be a reason, and the fact that Elliot couldn’t figure it out was eating him up inside and it had only been a few hours since the conversation. 

The only thing he could think to do was distract himself for a little while and come back to the situation when he wasn’t on the verge of a mental breakdown. Climbing out of bed, he noticed that his headache had subdued significantly and the nosebleed had ended, although there was some dried blood beneath his nose that he promptly brushed off. He started heading down the seemingly endless halls of the castle in the direction of the doors that would lead him straight to the stables. To this day, he still surprised himself when he managed to navigate the rooms of the castle without getting lost, and he owed that partly to Tyrell who had spent a fair amount of his childhood leading Elliot around whenever he needed to get somewhere. 

Somehow, despite the castle being the largest structure Elliot had ever seen, he managed to be in the right place at the right time and passed Darlene in one of the hallways. She appeared frustrated, so much so that she almost didn't even notice Elliot. He called out to her and she stopped suddenly, her dark brown curls in a frizz and dark circles under her eyes. “Everything good?” he asked cautiously, and she stopped in her tracks, spinning so her portrait was framed by the slate grey bricks of the castle walls. Her solemn expression blended in with the dark background of the walls and she looked like something straight out of one of her paintings. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she breathed out in a heavy sigh. Her eyes refused to meet Elliot’s as she brushed her hair back out of her face and spoke again. “I’m just…hiding from mom.” Darlene forced a laughed at that, but it came out more like an exasperated exhale. 

“Why?” Elliot continued. Taking care of Darlene had always been his top priority, even before the cryptic message was left by his father that same afternoon. 

Darlene stared at the ground, kicked at a loose stone with her boot. She took a deep breath. “It’s just that…I know my birthday’s coming up, and pretty soon, her and dad are going to have to arrange a marriage. And I was just hoping that maybe if she never found me, she’d never be able to tell me who I was getting married to.” Elliot paused and tried to think of something to say, but he couldn’t come up with the right words. He hated seeing her so upset, she deserved so much more, was worth so much more, and there was nothing he could do to prove it to her because some dickhead decided it was wrong to break tradition. She must have mistaken his silence for annoyance, so she continued. “And I know it’s dumb, because everyone has to do this and I’m, like, the only one making a big deal out of it. But it just feels so wrong and I’m supposed to be someone who’s brave and strong but I’m so fucking scared to leave you and mom and dad and be on my own with someone who’s probably going to be a complete stranger. 

“It’s not dumb,” Elliot interjected immediately. He would have to get married at some point, too. Any day, now, a girl’s family could present a marriage to his family, but at least he’d have a little bit of choice in the matter. It was different for Darlene, though. She was still so young, with so much potential, and yet she would always be seen as an inferior. That’s where the differences in their situations started and didn’t stop ending. There was one thing, though, that could possibly relate their circumstances a little more, if he could just -- no. It was that pit in his stomach again, the thing even he couldn’t trust himself with. He shoved the thought aside. “You have a right to be scared,” he assured her, because apparently he was useless and didn’t know how to help, but his words did something because next thing he knew Darlene was breaking down and crying against his chest. 

Although he tried relentlessly to fight it, his mind went back to what his father had said. Take care of Darlene. He was sure as shit there was so much more to his message than a request as simple as that, but he wasn’t ready to tackle what the fuck was really going on, so he settled on focusing on what had always been the most important part of his life. So he hugged Darlene back and let her tears fall onto his shirt until she was pulling away and building up her facade of bravery, a tool she had always used as a shield to hide her vulnerabilities. She looked away again and muttered something under breath that Elliot didn’t quite understand, but that didn’t matter now. 

“Do you want to come see the horses with me?” he suggested thoughtfully, knowing well that Darlene loved seeing the horses but often couldn’t visit them as she technically wasn’t allowed at the stables. It was rare that Elliot felt brave enough to sneak her around the castle until they made it to the seclusion of the stable. Now felt like the right time to take that risk. “I gotta go feed Flipper and clean her stall before the King sends someone to kick my ass.” 

Her eyes lit up a little brighter and her smile curled up slightly at the edges. “Really? I haven’t seen Flipper in so long.” They walked side by side down the hall, keeping their heads lowered and voices down to avoid drawing any attention to themselves from the many people that passed by them in a hurry. “Do you think she still hates me?” Darlene asked at one point as they rounded yet another disorienting corner. 

Elliot briefly remembered the last time he had brought Darlene to the stable. Flipper had refused to eat the special carrot Elliot had stolen for her from the kitchen while Darlene was watching her, and everytime Darlene reached out to stroke her mane, she shook her head away quickly and faced the opposite direction. “We’ll have to find out,” he shrugged, but he couldn’t hide the smile that appeared. Sometimes, he wished he could bring Flipper up to his room and she could just hang out with him all day since her stall in the stable was so small and likely did little to prevent her from the cold in the winter. The castle really held the main purpose of protection, so it wouldn’t make sense to have an elaborate stable that provided top-notch comfort. Still, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the animals. 

Fuck. His train of thought was going all over the place again. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? He couldn’t remember. 

Light entered the castle as they approached the opening that led into the courtyard. Just down a cobbled path sat the stable, and Darlene gasped a little at the sight. “You’re so lucky, you get to come here all the time. I wish I had a horse.” He knew it wasn’t only about the horse for Darlene. Sure, that was part of it, but what she really wanted was to be able to learn about jousting and riding and fighting battles like the rest of the squires. Elliot didn’t mention that, though, worried that it would only upset her further. 

The wooden doors creaked when Elliot first opened them, and once peering inside, he saw that other than the horses, the room was empty. He stepped inside with Darlene trailing close behind, eager to reunite with Flipper. The horse in question peeked over the edge that held her captive and Elliot admired the way his horse stood out among the others. She was the only completely black mare in the stable, with shiny fur that glistened, and even Tyrell was envious of her strength. 

“Sorry girl, no carrots today,” he muttered softly, reaching up to brush his palm against her cheek. Darlene followed his movements closely, then tried to mimic them exactly, but the reactions she got were the same as last time. Flipper avoided her hand, swished her tail, and stared down at Elliot. 

“Am I really that bad?” she asked, to which Flipper responded with what seemed to be a sneeze. Darlene laughed. It was good to hear her laugh again. 

Elliot poured a few handfuls of corn out of a burlap sack into the tin container used to hold Flipper’s food while Darlene worked on trying to befriend the other horses. Most of them wanted nothing to do with her, or with anyone for that matter, but a few gave in to Darlene’s excited pets of their fur. Elliot folded his arms and rested them atop the door of Flipper’s stall, then his mind started to drift again. Back to that conversation with his father. It simply wouldn’t leave him alone and he felt as though he was wasting time by trying to get his shit together. What if by the time he figured out what he meant, something awful had already happened? What if he never figured it out at all? What if that something awful that happened was his fault? What if he was never able to see himself the same way after that? What if, what if, what if, each one bringing him a new concern and sinking him further into a trap that gripped him by the arms and dragged him deeper down--

“Elliot?” Darlene’s voice broke his thoughts. This, he was almost certain, was a good thing. “You’re acting weird,” she pointed out. “I mean, you’re always acting weird, but this is extra weird.” He looked at her with faux confusion. There was no way he could tell her about what their dad had said. She was under enough stress as it was, he didn’t want to be the one bringing her more pain. 

“Just, uh, you know,” he stuttered, fumbling to come up with an excuse on the spot. “I was thinking about how I’m probably never going to make it as a knight.” He wasn’t lying, technically, because he did often worry that that would be his fate, all of his work would add up to one thing -- a failed squire who was never good enough to obtain the position of a knight. 

“Jesus,” she laughed. “You are going to be a shitty knight with that kind of confidence.” 

“Yeah…” Elliot said, his voice trailing off and dissipating into the darkness. He wanted to go somewhere. He didn’t know know where, he just knew that he didn’t want to be at the castle. “Wanna go somewhere?” He asked it so nonchalantly, barely a hitch in his voice. Darlene stopping trying to pet the horse standing in front of her and turned to face him, shadows from the little movements within the stable dancing across her face. 

“Go somewhere?” Darlene repeated, a hint of laughter cracking through his voice. But Elliot wasn’t joking. “Couldn’t we get in trouble?” 

They definitely could get into trouble. It wasn’t protocol for squires to wander out in the middle of the night without telling someone, especially when they were bringing their sister along for the ride. But he was suffocating and he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t even wait until morning. There was no where else to clear his head. “No one will even notice.”

“Oh, you’re finally starting to feel rebellious, huh?” Darlene joked. “Okay. Fine. Let’s go, but only if we can take Flipper.” 

Elliot glanced over at the horse and gave her a soft pat on the head. When he started to unlock the gate, she whinnied, to which Elliot responded with a shush. “Wanna go for a ride, girl?” he asked, leading her out of the stable. Darlene trailed behind them, not containing her excitement at all. She had never ridden on a horse before, let alone Flipper, her favorite girl of all.

There was one place Elliot could think of to go. He had only been there once, so he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remember how to find it. But that time he had seen it...god, it was so beautiful. When he had first moved into the castle, Tyrell was showing him around, and they wandered into a seemingly untouched area of the surrounding forest. There was a quiet brooke with small fish that swam around the stream and flowers that sprouted up from the edges of the banks. It smelled like everything good about nature — peace, relaxation, worry-free. He’d give anything to feel like that. 

He hopped on, swinging his legs over the horse. Darlene tried to follow suit, but wasn’t quite tall enough to make it over Flipper’s high back on her own. Elliot had to grab her hand help pull her up. “Thanks,” she whispered. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“I think so,” Elliot responded. He gripped Flipper’s reins tightly in his hands and leaned forward, commanding her to go. And she did. She took off, letting Elliot steer her in the direction of escape, and Elliot basked in the feeling of the wind on his face.


End file.
